“She turns her head and looks at me, and there is a trustfuless in that look I probably do not deserve. But maybe that is not the point, to deserve it or not, perhaps it just exists, that trust, disconnected from who you are and what you have done, and is not to be measured in any way.”

“You're such a bitch; I tell I love you and what do you do next? You drop me like a bad habit. Hasn't it occurred to you I may deserve better than a coldhearted hypocrite so full of fears and prejudices she can't tell her head from her ass? I won't beg for anyone's love, and yours is no exception. I deserve a woman that doesn't have to be talked into showing that she cares. Someone who'd trust my commitment to her.”

“Do you have any idea how stubborn you can look ? Our children better never give me that look, althought I won't mind if they give it to you. You'd deserve it.”

“We've got work to do. Strip." "Strip for what?" "I'm going to measure you for your dress. Strip!" Rachel saved me…sort of. "You can do her measurements with her clothes on, Mamma," she chastised. "Oh, I know I can." She pointed at me. "But look at her face! Ha! I just wanted to see her face pucker up like that.”

“That's when it happens. The moment of death is full of heat and sound and pain bigger than anything, a funnel of burning heat splitting me in two, something searing and scorching and tearing, and if screaming were a feeling it would be this.Then nothing. I know some of you are thinking maybe I deserved it. Maybe I shouldn't have sent that rose to Juliet or dumped my drink on her at the party. Maybe I shouldn't have copied off of Lauren Lornet's quiz. Maybe I shouldn't have said those things to Kent. There are probably some of you who think I deserved it because I was going to let Rob go all the way--because I wasn't going to save myself.But before you start pointing fingers, is what I did really so bad? So bad I deserved to die? So bad I deserved to die like THAT?Is what I did really so much worse than what anybody else does?Is it really so much worse than what YOU do?Think about it.”

“Pitiful is the person who is afraid of taking risks. Perhaps this person will never be disappointed or disillusioned; perhaps she won’t suffer the way people do when they have a dream to follow. But when that person looks back – and at some point everyone looks back – she will hear her heart saying, “What have you done with the miracles that God planted in your days? What have you done with the talents God bestowed on you? You buried yourself in a cave because you were fearful of losing those talents. So this is your heritage; the certainty that you wasted your life.”